


Wouldn't it be nice?

by LittleGreenPlasticSoldier



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Dean, Alpha Sam, Alpha/Beta, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Biting, Explicit Consent, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Knotting, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Roleplay, Rutting, Sex, Smut, first heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-06
Updated: 2016-12-06
Packaged: 2018-09-06 20:59:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8769127
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleGreenPlasticSoldier/pseuds/LittleGreenPlasticSoldier
Summary: You’re a beta in a family of omegas.  All you’ve ever wanted was a picture perfect omega life.  And if you can’t actually have it, you’re happy enough to pretend.For @dr-dean’s #ABO Birthday Challenge using the prompt “Wouldn’t it be nice” by The Beach Boys





	

**Author's Note:**

> _I posted this teaser before the story went up. It's set right in the middle of the story, but not included in the main post..._
> 
> ...
> 
> “What the hell is that?” Dean stands inside the door, hands out like the earth just shook.
> 
> “The smell?” Sam asks. He’s showered, doing a spot of research in his sleep clothes, feeling sated while he eats a sandwich. “I sprayed.”
> 
> Dean frowns fiercely, scowling at his brother for his stupidity. “Yeah I can smell that, it’s fuckin’ disgusting-”
> 
> “No it’s not!” Sam laughs.
> 
> “It’s like my face is being fucked by a tree!” Dean strides across the room to the bathroom. “Ugh fuck,” he waves dramatically at the air, “fuck it stinks,” then stops at the end of Sam’s bed, detecting an undertone that makes his back straighten. “Did you…?” He raises a finger at the bed, turns to raise his eyebrows at Sam.
> 
> “Yeah.” Sam’s not fussed with Dean’s state. He always arcs up at the stink of sex. “She smelled really good, for a beta.”
> 
> Dean frowns again, looks back at the bed, and goes to shower away his own evening. He’s had a good fuck this evening too, a nice beta he’s kept in port for some time. So he’s pretty peeved that this chemical mix has his groin prickling again, armpits too. He thinks he’ll suggest that they don’t bring dates back to their shared room anymore, for their own comfort, or book separately more often.
> 
> The shower is a short relief, because when he opens the bathroom he literally takes a step back, like the room’s air slapped him.
> 
> Sam’s in bed now. He watches Dean make a wide arc around him in his towel. Dean’s glancing around the room, peering at shadows like someone might still be there.
> 
> “She was wearing a synthetic omega scent,” Sam offers, like that might help explain.
> 
> Dean looks at Sam, thinking for a few seconds. He knows the masking spray annoys him, and there is an undertone of artificiality to it, but there’s something more… “Yeah I can’t stay here.”
> 
> “What?”
> 
> “I’m getting my own room,” Dean grumbles, shoving on some track pants and a sweater before collecting tomorrow’s suit. “I stay here I’m either gonna beat the shit outta you or jack off for four hours.” He’s at the door before Sam can even tell him how late it is. “See ya.”

“OMG that was the hottest thing since sliced bread,” I thumb into my phone.  “And now I’m toast.  You write your alphas so perfectly /possessive/ anyone would think I’m in heat, and your omega!readers are always just how I’d imagine.  The ensuing Disney-level fluff was just perfect.  Bravo ma’am.  I write this from the floor.”  

I send the comment and look at the bar through my fogged windscreen, blotting my lips while I wait for the street to be clear again.  Reading A/O fics makes me equal parts horny and wired.  This one was an ”omega settles for a beta and then her alpha finds her in a [moment of high tension] and he cures her with his magic knot” story and I’m fairly confident I had leftovers for dinner but I was literally glued to my screen, heart racing along with her when he swept her off her feet, flung her against the door and just took her…    _Unf_.  So, yeah, I ate, but I don’t remember what.  Actually, I’ll just tell the writer that…

It’s not always a great idea to read them right before a role-play night, but fuck it, the stuff is crack.  I literally can’t keep away and gave up trying years ago.  The need, the sweaty, blind desire.  It’s everything I’ve ever wanted in a fling, which I guess is why I still come here.  Sometimes reading them makes me brave, but sometimes they’re too real.

The poster for these nights is a simple code-fill ad

“A/O RP nights, 3rd Friday OTM, Traffic lights and ID taps, All betas welcome.”

It’s down the end of the building  - half the size of the other posters - and I appreciate the discretion because, self-talk as I might, I still feel a hot embarrassment about indulging in these.  Only my little sister, Jenny - a picture book omega with a beautiful husband and life - knows about these escapades.  I’ve only done it five or so times, but I spent a lot longer thinking about it.  Shit, years maybe.  But, again… it’s _addictive_.

Last month, for example, I hit a small jackpot.  This guy, Glenn, was the most alpha looking beta you’ve ever seen.  He definitely _wasn’t_ an alpha, anyone could detect that, but he had done this before, and he could tell I was nervous, so he was like “If you wanna bail out, just say Chicago, and I’ll stop.”  He even wore a sheath to extend his dick, with a small suggestion-of-a-knot at the base.  It was ridiculously hot and I barely said a word.  I was just… Jesus, I was swept. Heart-eyed.  You could’ve put me on a Harlequin cover, chiffon-draped and in the surf, I was that beswooned.  But he didn’t offer up his number, or ask for mine, so.  Yeah.  There’s that.

And there _is_ that, really.  These nights are unlikely to end in romance.  No one wants a beta who can’t suck up her future.  Which is fucking annoying because everyone understands.  Like seriously, who wouldn’t want to be an omega?  I mean, I know it’s a bit rough at the start, but you have an alpha who’s _meant for you_ , and _yours_ , and you’re _theirs_ , and it’s _determined!_  Ugh!  Wouldn’t it be nice to have all that decided for you?  To just ride a wave of breeze-blown curtains, crackling fires and here-eat-off-my-fork. That’s what Jenny had.  And the _wedding_.  Christ on a cake, it was perfect.  Off-white shot silk with duck-egg blue contrast and highlights of peach and my every breath was a sigh that day.  It was just… _forever_.  

And definitely not the stuff of monthly roleplays with Balpha boys and fuck toys. Soul deep sigh.

This perfume is freaking me out a bit.  I can smell the hint of synthetic omega scent behind it so I’m putting the teeniest dab behind my ears because if I can smell it a beta guy will definitely catch it, and an alpha might cross the room.  I shouldn’t play with that kind of fire, not really, so I’m using it conservatively.

Okay, so, lock the car, check my card, phone, green belt is showing… I haven’t vibrated the blood out of my skin yet, so that’s good.  It doesn’t help that these nights coincide with the first days after my period.  I’m always chomping at the bit, practically grinding my teeth, to get something achieved.  Sometimes I cruise online toy stores and fantasise about cock enhancements and being exhausted in a way I’ve never really experienced.  And tonight’s no exception: my gut muscles quiver, my kneecaps jiggle, and my hands have that shake only I can see.  I’m a mess, truth be told, and I love it and hate it.   _Someone save me._  And that’s pretty much the theme of my Bomega style.

Instinctively, I keep my eyes down when I walk to the bar, and I order a whiskey straight off.  No point waiting for the courage to come to me.  The bar stool has a nice firm dome I can wiggle on for relief, or anti-relief, whichever.  Scanning for the red is automatic now - pins, belts, handkerchiefs, anything to denote an alpha-playing beta who’d be up for something this evening.  There are a lot of amber flags - people who’d play either, and keen for something - but I want someone with a little… conviction.

“You,” Oh Christ.  Fuck.  That bass.  “You smell delicious.”

This man is an alpha.  An _actual_ alpha, alone and _out_ _on the prowl._  I meet them all the time, but in this setting, when it’s just us, no mutual friends, or omega-mates… His fragrance seems to dive down my throat and push my chest inside out.  I’m not sure I’ve even seen a real alpha here before.

When I dare to look up at him, my ears start to ring and my ribs tighten.  His dark eyes are ravenous, riveting enough to distract me from his smooth olive skin, wavy black hair and fine features, and I’m _leaning_ …  He looks like he’s been at sea for months, tanned and salted, and hungry for something buxom and meaty, like he’d start with my calf… He’s tall and broad and everything any A/O fic has ever promised and suddenly the shit is scared out of me.  He’s an alpha in rut.

“That-” I swallow and clear my throat. “That would be my perfume.”

He raises a suspicious eyebrow.  “Well yeah, there’s no way an omega smells like that.” He pops a peanut in his mouth.  “It’s like artificial sweetener, just on the top, mind you,” he says.  “But it’s very sweet nonetheless.”  He has a lot of perfect teeth.

He chews and grins and leans in more, and for a few seconds I breathe in the gut sucking temptation that comes with a rut-cloud.  He must be in the early days still and he’s here looking for someone willing to help out.

“You know what-” God I can’t deal with this, he’s too much.  “I’m not sure I’m really up for an- a _real_ alpha tonight-”

“Ooooh but I love the way you say it, baby.”  He leans up against me, pushing his heat around and smearing his body down the line of my side, and I’m swaying, practically cross-eyed trying to hold my ground.

“N- No, thank you.  It’s- I’m just-” I look up at him, hoping he has some mercy.  “It’s just for pretend.”

“I’ll have you.”  A brunette hors-d'oeuvre is behind me, thick eyelashes and heavy eyes as she rubs her thighs together.  

He actually slurps before he comes away from my side, then wraps his large hands around her shoulders and tilts her.  “You sure?”

Oh _God_.

“Oh God!” she breathes and lets herself sag into his hold.  “Yes _Alpha_.”

“Fuck, baby.” He smiles at her and she manages to stay conscious as he tucks her under his arm and leaves.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be brave enough to let myself come under the control of a real alpha like that.  Sometimes the reality of it shakes me.

There’s a tall guy down the bar.  He’s wearing a red shirt and watching me kindly, and he’s sweet-looking and fit.  I twinkle a little _Hi_ and he finishes his drink, raising his eyebrows like _I’m gonna come say hi, okay?_  I like that, the kindness before the game.

“You alright?” He speaks before he’s even close.

“Yeah! I’m fine.”  I take a deep breath and gesture at the nearest stool.  “Thanks.”

Gosh, this guy’s handsome too.  Very tall and chiselled, with longish brown hair and- _gosh_ , he is handsome.  He’s _lovely_.

When he sits down his scent washes over me too and I think it must be a nice cologne but after a few seconds I realise that’s _him_.  It’s like… holidays.  I’m still amazed when he starts talking.

“I’m Sam,” he says and offers his hand.

“Y/N,” I nod and take the offer.  His hold pauses and I let my gaze hang on his a longer than it should.  He’s intriguing.  “Are you an alpha too?”

“Uh, yeah,” he admits. “But I’m… I had…”

The nurturing side of my beta instinct kicks in and I tighten with remorse, sorrow, for this guy who’s lost his mate.  He sees it and starts to brush away my sadness.  “It was a while ago, I’m okay. It’s just these things-”

He means the role-play nights, the willing people, when he’s still having ruts.  “Yeah.  It’s easier.”

“It is,” he nods, relieved about my understanding.  He’s just… he feels familiar.  Exciting, but safe.  And he is remarkably handsome, a natural sun-kissed ease about him.  And all that man.

I’m not sure why but I feel safer with him, even as an alpha, and I don’t want to waste a second.

I slide off my seat and stand between his knees, collecting his left hand in a kind hold.

He watches what I do and rolls with it, looking down at his fingers wrapping around mine, then blinks oddly.  “You smell really good.”  He looks around me like he might find the source.

“Oh, I’m wearing one of those fake omega scents.  It’s my first night trying it.”  I’m a bit shy about the confession.

“No, it’s something else…” He peers and thinks and after a while decides it’s just a curiosity. It gives me ample time to look at him and decide I’m sure.

“Do I look anything like your mate?” I don’t even know how I want him to answer.

Sam’s focus is sucked inside himself, into his memories, and he answers honestly. “No. She didn’t look like anyone.”

“Good.”  I press my other hand to his chest and offer, “Would you like me to be your omega for a night?”

Sam peers at me and clenches his jaw.  His eyes trickle over my shadows - under my ear, the dip of my bust, all the places he could taste - and his hand finds my waist.  His squeeze sends all thought, all the breath, out of me, and again I’m leaning for an alpha and what he offers.  He watches me come closer, pulls me into it, against him, and pushes his chin along my jaw so he can growl in my ear.  “You can have me, if I can have you.”

 _Holy fuck.  Fuck.  Okay._ My eyes slip shut and I press against him, the slight stubble just the most deliciously manly thing I’ve felt in so long, and he seems so much warmer than anybody should.  I arch my back, pushing my chest up so I can curve myself up under his chin, into his neck, and I feel his lips by my hairline, plucking a few short kisses.  It makes me sigh, high and wound, and he groans, licking my skin and nibbling the muscle.

Sam stands and holds my hand, saying “I can’t keep going here.”  He isn’t going to haul me out of here like some caveman.  He knows alphas can be scary.  So I nod at the door and do my best to silently let him know I’d definitely be okay with so much sex.  

He pulls out his ID, swipes it over the scanner on the bar.  I set my eyes on the door and go, heart thumping hard so it can push blood past the tight hold of his hand in mine, and he follows me out into the night.  

“I have a room,” he tells me and we’re off down the street to the motel nearby.

It’s nearly everything I’ve ever hoped for from an A/O roleplay.  He’s on me as soon as the door closes, all hands and height and squeezing me tight and it’s more authentic than any encounter I’ve ever had because _he’s had them._  He is an actual alpha.  He had an omega and now he has me. Has got me.  And can throw me around however he likes coz Holy Christ he’s a big guy.

“Saw you when you walked into that bar, Y/N,” he growls - oh _God,_ he can _growl._  “Everyone did.”  The green belt seems almost silly now but it’s undone and my jeans are yanked open and down in seconds.  I’m still working on his damn buttons, pulling the shirt apart, and now distracted by what’s beneath.  He’s got this chocolatey moss across his chest and he’s muscular, musky, and his throat and chin, angular and peppered, is in the top of my vision all the time.

He pulls up his shirt, whipping it off in frustration and undoing his own pants too before coming back to yank the hem of my top right up my body, barely even waiting for me to move my arms. I wrangle the last of it over my head and he gets his fingers under my bra, shoves it up, up to my shoulders and his fucking arm muscles bunch and jerk and he’s broken the goddamn clasp! Thrown it up my arms and over his head!  My whole outfit may as well have been made with press-studs.   _Jesus he’s perfect!_

“I saw two other alphas get up for you.”  He mumbles it into my neck, and his hands slide over my back, dragging down, pulling me into him, scalding planes of skin and scent furling up his body, rising with the heat.  “Fuckin’ I could tell they weren’t good enough for you.”

“Shit, _Sam_.”  Well, it’s something to say.  I sure as hell don’t know what the rest of me is doing.  He gathers me up, taking my weight, and I try holding onto him but my strength seems inconsequential, a tokenistic tickle on his back.  My fingers get into his hair and as he swings me around toward the bed I hold on, tugging his locks, and a grunt punches out of him.

“Uuugh! Fuck! Do that again!”

I scramble to please, pulling back and down and he lifts me higher, so I can look down at him.  His open fly scratches against my thighs as he looks up at me, teeth bared, gaze fixed on my mouth and everything strength and burling want.  “You gonna let me fuck you, pretty beta?”

“Yes.”  Oh Jesus it’s more than I’ve ever had.  Fast, real, and just this side of dangerous.  

“How.  Tell me.”  He’s climbed onto the bed, kneeling and shucking me right up against his lap, fingers hooked into my knee to jerk me against him.

“ _Ah!_ ” Fuck! His cock! It’s like a frikken baton between us, and it’s burning against the lips of my pussy, smearing them apart.  “However you want.”  I want to call him Alpha, I so want to but it seems so presumptuous. I can’t tell if he’s playing or not.  “Have me however you like, Sam.”

He starts to lick and bite at me, teeth scraping over my neck and shoulders and it stings, even as he kisses it better.  He slips a hand up my thigh, hitching it up a little so he can reach under and feel the heat of my creases.

“Jesus, I’ve never met a beta so wet,” he groans.  He sits up and drops me onto the mattress, plucks a condom from his back pocket before backing off the bed, toeing off his boots and shoving off the rest of his clothes.

He’s everything an alpha should be.  The epitome of it, I’m sure.  Sweat and meat and desire.  And a fucking big cock.  Shit.

The condom goes all the way down, past the knot at it’s base, and a whole other kind of exhilaration fizzles through me.

“Roll over, gorgeous.”

Shaky hands find the comforter, jellied legs find some direction.  He helps me onto my hands and knees and drags his hands over my back and hips.  “So beautiful, betagirl.  You sure you’re okay for this?”

“God yes, Sam,” I cough.  I can feel my own heat radiating, my pussy aching for pressure, for _impact_.  “I’m sure.”

He leans over, brushing my hair aside so he can kiss my neck.  It makes me shiver all over and the skin by my ear squeaks tight.  He murmurs, “You can call me Alpha if you want.  I don’t mind.”

“Okay.”  I want him, I want this, so badly, and if I could function well enough, if I functioned properly in the first place, I’d know why I had some apprehension still.  But my desire, my deep belief that I’m safe, lets me race ahead with him, and I tilt my ass in offering.

“Christ… so _good_.” He slides the head of his cock back and forth a few times, driving along the wetness between my thighs, and sucks air at how hot I am.

I start doing everything I can to encourage him with my hips, rocking, tilting, widening my knees to make it easier, groaning my head off.  “Don’t worry, Y/N.  I gotcha.”  He finds the dint before pushing forward a little.  “Okay?”

Ugh the teasing pressure, just the tip of promise.  “Yes.  God,” I moan.   _Really, fucking really, please,_ I chant inside and he starts to move forward.  “Please Alph _UCK!_ Fuck!”  He’s slid inside, all the way, and he’s thick and long, and my pitch has flung itself off the register.  “GodfuckSAM!”

He fucks me, he’s fucking me, fingers molded to my hips, and his groans sound like his lip’s bitten.  Wet slaps chase my sighs and my sighs climb higher than I thought they could. Surely I won’t survive this.

He bounces and grabs, sinking himself over and over again.  “Jesus you feel good… so good… You wanna feel my knot betagirl?”

“No!  Fuck! No, please!” Jesus, I’ll split in two.

“Okay,” he huffs, half a laugh.  My body flushes warm and wet, moisture starting to drip from my groin and squidge in his curly hair, and he reaches around to find my folds.  He flicks up, light and in time and I yelp, almost squeal at the flash of it, snatching at his forearm, and when he pushes a little harder, right over the top of it, I yell out, squeezing my eyes tight and feeling my body wrack a sweet hot orgasm that zings up my back and thrills down my legs.  My nails dig into his skin and he punches a groan, jerking back just enough that he doesn’t trigger his knot.

There’s such a ridiculous amount of cum I can actually feel it taking up space inside, in the condom.   _What a mess that must be_ , my faraway brain remarks.

Sam’s hand lands beside mine and his breath hits my back, harsh hot puffs of relief as he rests his wet forehead on my shoulder.  He’s burning still, feels beautiful over my ass and back. I sorta wish he’d wanted to do this the other way around, but I probably would’ve suffocated from the heat.

“You sure you’re not an omega?”

He’s got to be joking.  “No,” I puff.  “I’m the useless black sheep of the family.”  I flop onto the bed and Sam eases out, letting my hips follow me down.  Somewhere back there he cleans up, grabs a night cloth from the motel’s complementaries and wipes us as dry as possible.

Eventually I turn my head and see Sam there beside me, hairy chest heaving, a clear, glistening brow and easy smile.  “You smell very good for a beta,” he says absently.

“You smell good full stop,” I sigh.

We sleep.  Sam wakes me after an hour or so.  He offers to have me stay in but I’d really rather be home - I feel a bit woozy, and I hope it doesn’t show.  He doesn’t take offense but is mildly amused at how hard it seems to be for me to get dressed.  Deciding whether to leave my broken bra or take it home becomes a huge decision because my brain just isn’t working properly.  “Sorry, I’ll just-  maybe-  I’ll just turn ‘em into doilies.”

He laughs and throws off the covers.  “Let me drive you home.”

Sam has a sensible hire car, and we tolerate a shy and somewhat awkward trip.  When I reach for the door handle, Sam asks for the upteenth time that night, “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” I nod.  “I think… I dunno.  Maybe my dinner was a bit off.”  I smile and he smiles back.  “Thank you for the lift.”

“Hey, thank you for the night,” he grins.  “You mind if I look you up?”

“Yeah, okay.”  It’s the nicest outcome I could’ve hoped for.  I get a jittery phone number onto a card of his, and he gets mine in return.  

As quickly as I can, I get myself inside, shy little waves of assurance and thanks as he supervises from the car. I lock the door behind me.  I’m almost sweating again when I get to the bathroom, and although I sit down and finally relax, there’s nothing happening.  I have a shower, go to bed, and wish there was someone else in the house to feel sorry for me and my queasiness.

…

“Y/N, I need to see you!”

Only for my sister would I answer the phone at this hour, especially in this state.  “Oh Jenny, I’m not well,” I groan.  “I think I have food poisoning.”

“From what?” she asks, distracted by something.

“Leftovers I think.  Which is annoying because it was fine the night before, and it was hot.”  I roll onto my side and sit up, surprisingly fidgety under my skin.

“Can you come to the beta-bar for brunch? Please?”  It’s unusual for Jenny to insist, so I figure it must be important.  It’s gross, but maybe a good puke will do the job, and then I’ll probably be okay.

“Yeah, hokay.  Gimme an hour lil Sis.”

“Thank you!  I love you!”

…

The windows are open and there are flowers on the table but I can never quite shake my memories when I come here during the day.  All my nocturnal activities echo around like ghosts of shame, and I’m always petrified I’ll meet someone from an A/O night.  God I’m so pathetic.  I feel like shit.

Jenny is here, fingers rippling anxiously on the table top, and she jumps up when she sees me.  “Y/N!  Hello! You- holy crap!  You look terrible!”

“Oh.  Thank you,” I gesture widely.  “Your accuracy is _so_ kind.  It’ll pass.  What’s up my love?”

She gives me a ginger hug, then holds my shoulders to look at me properly.  “What’s that-” Gasp! “- No way!  Did you meet an alpha last night?”

There’s no hiding the scent, and I don’t really want to.  He was lovely.  “I did,” I shrug.  “Sam.  Really nice guy, for a rutting alpha.”

“I can’t believe you’re still alive!” she laughs.

I laugh too because, yeah.   _Kinda_.  “He was a widower.”

She pours us a few glasses of water.  “Tell me everything- No! Wait!  Let me tell you- Wait- Two things!”

“How many of you are there?” I ask, resting my head in my hand.  

“Okay, one, did you know there was a death here two nights ago?  Well not here, but the car park down the street!  It was gory as all hell, but that’s just what I heard anyway.  AND!” She’s beaming.  I know what’s coming.  “We’re pregnant again!”

“Oh Jenny!” I reach across the table and grab her hand. “That’s the best news ever!!”

She smiles and nods and almost sheds a tear.  She was always disappointed their first was an only pup; hopefully this one will be multiples.

“Andrew will be so h- _AH!”_ I squeeze her hand and double over.   _“Fuck!”_

“Sweetie?” she leans.  “Do you need the bathroom?’

“No, fuck it!  I just finished my period too,” I grizzle.  What a load of crap to have random period cramps on top of food poisoning.

Jenny frowns and pats my hand, and looks at my overall state.

My hips start to ache, and my lower back throbs - like real fuck-off no-mercy period cramps.  I’m starting to think I’m gunna need some drugs.  I feel so hot.

“Y/N!” Beside our booth stands Sam, looking at me with grim concern.  “What are you doing here?”

I look up at him, cough out “Sam!” and try to smile.  It’s a sorry smile too because he looks like I’ve done something wrong.  

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he says, and the tone of him grates on my bones.

My body throbs, like an answer, and I grunt _Ugh!_ with it, panting to push it back and stop frowning.  “It’s okay, it’ll pass,” I wave, wishing the sweating could be stopped.  If only I had a pad, a tampon even, I can feel the blood slipping in my pants. I still feel achy from the sex, slack and chubby even, and it’s combining into a very tender bottom.  “I’ve just got my period.  I think.”

Sam clenches his fists and glances at Jenny.  She hasn’t let go of my hand yet and I’m starting to grunt with discomfort.  I begin to plead with him.  “Sam.  Sam?  Could you-”

“What?”

“I don’t know!” Then that pulse happens again.  “ _Ugh_ , fuck!”  

Sam turns at something, someone coming in, and seems to plant himself between me and them.  Through the general noise of the room I hear a timbre above all else, deep and warm, and it makes my marrow curdle.  Who is that?!

“Mornin’.  I’m with the FBI and we’re investi-”

Sam curses under his breath and steadies himself.  If he would just move I could see the guy’s face, but I can’t uncurl myself enough to even talk.

All I can catch are his shoes, turning to look our way.  “Sam?”

Sam says nothing but raises his hands warily.

“Who’s that?”  the guy asks.  I can see him grab hold of the bar with one hand, point the other in my direction.  Jenny squeezes my fingers again and whispers “You’re gonna be okay, sweetie.”

The bartender closes a fridge behind the guy and it blows a wall of alpha scent my way.  

This time my body almost revolts.  A clenching throb of want bolts through me, right to my core, pulling on my hips like a black hole.  I cry out and grab the table, try to pull myself sideways and tell Jenny “I wanna- _haa_ ” Oh god it hurts.  Hurts and prickles and stings sweet in my core, my pussy, my neck and breasts.  It aches like nothing else I’ve ever known and its building into something desperate and clawing.  “Home! _Please!”_

“Jesus.”  It’s a whisper but I know it’s him.

Sam gulps and says “Dean, just.” He watching the guy slowly let go of the bar and step away, and he pats the air to urge him back.  Sam turns to help me up and everything about him is suddenly terrible - alien, wrong, intrusive, rude.  I gasp and slap at him, getting out from the booth and stumbling sideways.  The floor seems to tilt, the whole building sailing a storm.

 _That scent!_  I lean on my knee and push nails into my belly, low and hot and dizzy.  The guy steps forward and I look up through tear-blurred vision.  I have no idea what he looks like except he’s tall and wearing a suit and _there_.  I drag myself two steps to him, and he meets me halfway, grabbing my elbows to hold me up and groans, face buried in my hair, a soft curse of _Jesus_ again.

“Food poisoning,” I whimper.  But straight away the ache shifts, stops sucking the life from my brain and starts feeding it with urgency and desire.

“That’s not food poisoning, sweetheart.”  

I whine against him because I can _feel_ his voice now, thrumming in my solar plexus, like a omnipotent shepherd, surrounding and close.  All I want is for him to tell me want to do, tell me I’ll be okay.  My fingernails scratch at his upper arms and I grab great handfuls of fabric, pulling him against me like I can push through his form.  He rubs his face against my head, nuzzling and dragging his cheek over my bones, his hands holding my head we take in each other’s scent.

Sam’s voice penetrates the haze and I finally wrap my head around what the hell this is.  “She thinks she’s a beta,” he tells the guy.  “It’s her first Dean.  You gotta get her back-”

“I gotcha sweetheart, okay?” He smooths down my hair and bends down a little, tucking his forearm behind my knees and gathering me up in his arms.  “I gotcha baby.”  He turns and heads for the bright outside, grunting at the pressure in his own pants.

“Okay,” I sigh, thinking for a minute that it’s not my fault and people have seen an omega wetpatch before.  “I trust you.”

“Her name’s-!” Sam calls out, but we’re gone already, door flapping behind us.

…

I’m curled up against his chest, pretty much hanging from his neck.  I hate his jacket.  It’s the worse thing in the world.  And his shirt.  I’m frowning at them as they rub against my face and forehead.  

He’s trying not to run, and I feel held high as I jolt tightly in his arms.  “Not long sweetheart,” he says and I put my palm to his neck, below his ear, make wobbly, damp strokes along his cheek and jaw.  He ducks to kiss my hand or thumb, whatever he can reach and I rub my forehead into the stubble.

I’m breathing his scent into my lungs with my mouth open so my soft palate can taste it, the back of my tongue aching for it.  My lower belly clenches over and over, pulsating with need, and I think maybe my vagina is sobbing.  All of me is hotter than I’ve never known, wet, sweating, my skin tight with frustration, muscles craving work but unable to let him go.  It’s not romantic or exciting; it’s fucking scary. I can’t think beyond these moments, I can’t even see beyond what I want.  There’s just a wall of person in my mind, this stranger, an actual stranger, who’s more important than anyone else, terrifyingly so, more important than food, or light, or time.

“Am I an omega?”

“Fuckin’ smell like an omega.”  We’re under shade and I can hear keys rattling.  “God I can hardly see straight babe.  You smell perfect.”

“You smell like home.”

He sucks in a deep breath and I feel his jaw clench.  “FuuuuUCK, _Come_ on,” he growls, struggling with the key.

“I’m an omega,” I say again, out loud, to help it stick.

“Not just an omega, you’re _my_ omega.”

“Hoh-oh my _God!”_ The sound of him saying that!  I can’t just wind up anymore.  I hold on to his shoulders and scramble in his arms, turning to wrap my legs around his waist and hold onto his head with both hands.  “Your omega.”

“My omega,” he breathes, steady and sure.  He’s gotten the door open and guesses about the step, the distances, because I’ve got my forehead pressed to his, eyes closed, like I can meld our brains together.  He kicks the door closed behind him and hugs me close, one hand under my ass where his forearm must be getting wet from the bloom of slick across the seat of my pants, and I can feel him breathe deep a few times, sucking the scent of it over his tongue and into his throat like he’s drinking for life, swallowing it down.  “NnnngOkay, let me look after you baby. You can’t last much longer like this.”

He tries to put me on the ground and has to reach back for my ankle, which would be embarrassing if I cared at all.  Letting him go feels about as possible as holding my breath.  “Let’s get these clothes off hey?”

Okay that I can do.  I start to undo his stupid shirt and shove off his terrible jacket, even as I’m still wrapped around him, so he sits on the bed as a compromise and pulls my top off too.

“Uuugh gorgeous, just.  Everything.”  He pulls off his layers in one go, whips off his singlet and I snatch him against me, gasping at his scorching heat and how perfect it feels.  My mouth latches onto his neck all by itself, licking and eating at him, and I pull at the flanks of his chest.  Hot, rough palms drag over my back before he finds the bra clasp, undoing it fluently.

“Please,” I pant.  “Please, something.”

“S’ok, I gotcha, real soon.”  He lays down, undoes his pants while I’m busily attached to his torso, kicks them down enough. Then he rolls us over and sits up, dragging himself out of my hold so he can undo my jeans and begin to get them off.  But I want him, in my arms, I’m frantic with want, and I can’t get myself to unravel.

“Let go, baby.  C’mon, gotta get these outta the way.”

“Alpha!”

He sucks in a shaky breath and leans over me, a restraint absolutely apparent as he breathes over my mouth.  “Oooohbaby, c’mon.  Hold it together.”  He purses his lips, pushing the exhale as if to pace himself and takes a few seconds.  “If you’ll let me, if you want me to, I’ll knot you, and you’ll feel better.”

“Uh Please! Yes! _Please!”_ I scratch across his back, pulling him close and kissing, licking his shoulder into my mouth, and he grunts at the discomfort.

“You’re still wearing pants, baby.”

Finally, my brain gets its priorities in order and I push him off, scramble my jeans and panties down, thumbnails scratching down my hips and beckon him back, little one-handed claps at the end of each arm.

He’s too slow to return, catching a hand in his as he climbs over me, resisting my pulling so he can look for a second, and I almost pull myself up to him.  “Holy Hell, you’re beautiful. I-”

“After! Please Alpha, fuck me.”  I’m almost sobbing now, pleading for him to put me out of my misery. “I need you, yours, inside, please!” I wrap my hands around his cock, him groaning at the sensation, me groaning at the size of it.  Yesterday I would’ve freaked out at anything so large, but I’ve been feeling my pussy swell since I woke and I’d be considering cucumbers, kranskies, some sort of blue ribbon root vegetable to ease this need if I didn’t have this in my hands right now.  It’s intimidating, but he feels made for me.

“Like this?” he checks, laying down between my legs.

“Yes, please, I wanna see you, hug you.”  I run my hands up and down everything I can reach.  He feels beautiful, so hot it’s like my hands coast over the force of his heat, and I start to sweat all over again.

“I wanna see you too,” he says.  

Oh Jesus! I haven’t even looked at him properly!  Gently I place my trembling hands over his ears and I try to stay still and see the man who might have me for life.  He’s leaning over me, looking inside my eyes with a recognition I’ve never known.  My ears ring with nostalgia and love and thanks.  I can’t tell you whether he’s handsome or not.  I don’t know if anyone else would call him good looking, but I’m sure no one thinks he’s as beautiful as I do.  He just looks like home.  Mine.  Like love.

“My name’s Y/N.”

He breaks into a dazzling smile, still breathing tight and fast, and gives one of those burst-and-swallow laughs before nodding and saying “Dean.”

I giggle, high and amazed and cover my mouth because I’ve never sounded like this before.  

“Naw, sweetheart-” Dean pulls my hand aside and kisses me, lays his body over mine and kisses me, scoops his hand under my ass so he can line up his cock and kisses me, licking and laving, fat lipped and deep tongued, and he pushes broad inches inside and kisses me, pushes everything he has into my body, pushes me apart, strikes flint inside fire, and kisses me.

“AAA- _HA!”_ I squeak.  Oh it’s everything, everything, I had no idea it could feel like this.  I thought there was no way- it’s like my body’s swallowed him up and holding on for the horizon.

“Ohgod, ohgod, sweetheart.”  He’s frozen, rigid for a second, then all of him moves like a vine possessed. He slides both arms under me, his left palm pressed flush up against my neck, thumb before my ear, fingers in my hair, his right hand pressing between my shoulder blades like he can imprint his pounding heart on mine, help it reach through our ribs and hold on.  His legs climb into the mattress, hairy trunks of muscle pushing up under mine, keeping him close, and all I can hear is his breathing, great gulps of air like he’s scared, exhilarated- “My omega.  I have an omega.”

I hold him as hard as he holds me and put my lips to his ear, whisper all the things I hope he wants to hear, everything I’ve ever dreamed of saying, fumbling with buzzing numbness.  “Have me Alpha, I’m yours, your omega, take me, knot me-” Before I’ve finished he’s started to move and my whispers turn harsh, scratched, choked on the searing pleasure of him dragging himself through the slick of my body and back into the heat.

He turns his head to mine, gets his teeth over the bolt of my jaw like he can’t wait to use them. “My omega,” he growls, deeper than a growl though, his voice ocean-floor drug;  I can’t hear him so much as feel him, somewhere at the base of my skull.  “My beautiful omega.  Mine.  Feel perfect.  Y’feel like mine.  Make you mine-”

“Alpha, yes, yours- _Ah!”_ He digs his toes into mattress, pushes hard, and I can feel his knot start to swell.  “Nothing else!”

“Huh?”

He fucks and shoves, fingertips digging into me, gripping against the slip of sweat.  I feel fever mad, desperate, my body craving the catch and pull of him.

“Nothing else Dean!” God it’s a struggle to talk- “There’s nothing else- _ah!_ I want!  Ever!”

He slides his hand from under my ear around behind my neck, tucking my hair away from the skin and tilting my head to the side.  The gesture makes my voice jump again, and he’s swelling even more, his breathing noisy and loud.  I manage a big breath and call “Please, Alpha!” and it’s almost too much.  I feel like I might pass out.  I hold onto his head, his neck, let my fingers fall light - “My alpha.”  I let him drive, and he thrusts hard, shoving me inches, and I feel it happen.  His knot bursts, hard and filling and catches on my body.  He yells out, sinking his teeth into the meat of my neck and fffffffuck!

 _“AaaaaAAHAHA!!” Jesus!_  Jesus Christ! Everything inside my hips trembles, quivers, and a flash of white life slingshots up my back, down my legs, ricocheting back from my fingertips and toes.  It’s brilliant, incandescent, and I hold onto him as best I can, listening to him groan, shuddering and surprised at how it feels, his tongue pressing inside the grip of his teeth.

Ripples of sweetness flow up and down my nerves, pulsing from where he is inside me, ebbing away and leaving me watery.  Finally I can fill my lungs like they’ve always wanted.  Finally I can just hold him without the fight.

His tongue on my neck, over the bite, is lovely, so sweet.  In the corner of my fuck-drunk vision he keeps stopping to check the bleeding, ducking down to lick again, check, and lick.  

“It’s okay,” I rasp.

He stops and looks at me, moments of apprehension dissolving into comfort and he kisses my cheek, pulls his arms out to lean them by my shoulders, and he strokes my hair, my eyebrows.  He looks exhausted, still dozy with affection and desire.  I feel him pulse inside.  It makes him take a breath, and blink slow, before he can talk again.  “Y/N.  My beautiful omega.”

I could be seconds from death and those words, in that voice would still make me beam, bring me back.  “My alpha,” I tell him, and cup his cheek.  “My Dean.”

He lets me thumb over his eyebrow, his long lashes, and tries to get comfortable while he’s locked inside me.

“Can you roll us over?”

I pull my knees up, he tucks me close, and although we both wince a bit, me resting on his chest is much easier.  He strokes my hair and kisses my head, and I listen to his heart.

It seems almost dawn when I wake. He’d deflated and my body released him hours ago.  There’s water on the nightstand and Dean’s at the bench, checking his phone.  I think I’ve been cleaned up - there’s a nightcloth on the-

I pop my head up and look around.  “God, all motel rooms really do look the same huh.”

Why is he chuckling?  [“Yooooou might’ve met my brother,”](http://littlegreenplasticsoldier.tumblr.com/post/154094589152/im-posting-an-abo-fic-soontomorrowlaterthis) Dean shares.  He squints a little, like it’s a hard truth, but he doesn’t seem upset.  

I put my hand over my eyes sighing “Nooooonononono I don’t want to have slept with your brother!”

“Don’t worry about it!” He doesn’t care?!  He’s laying next to me, pulling me against his belly and I can’t believe he doesn’t care about that!  “Hey I was with someone else last night too.  You’re forgiven.”

“You weren’t with my sister.”

“Hush about it.  Sam’s good. And to be honest, I’d rather him than some random alpha jerk who doesn’t know how to treat someone-” He clenches his jaw and takes a breath, managing that alpha instinct that must be so much worse now.  I lay a soft hand on his cheek and he nuzzles into it, relaxing and opening his eyes to me.  “Let me have a proper look at you.”

Dean leans up on his elbow and pulls back the covers so he can see me.  It’s the most peculiar thing to have him look at me like this.  I’m equal parts excited, hopeful, and nervous.

He gives me a careful once over, all concern and attentiveness.  He flicks a stern brow my way at the scratches on my hips and it makes me dimple my cheeks in apology, but eventually he’s satisfied.  He places a hand on my shoulder and starts there, watching it drag over where he’s already been, coasting the curves that no one else will ever have, and the only one’s he’ll ever want.  I look over him too.  He seems perfect, again.  Strong and able, a working body, but there are a lot of scars, and a tattoo on his chest that I’ll ask about soon.

He slides his fingers around my ass, into the creases there, watches how I move when he moves me.  “Why did it take so long to find you?”

“I think.  I’m wondering.  You know how I said I had food poisoning?”

“Yeah,” he laughs.

“Oh shuttup, everyone else in my family presented at 19.”  He packs it in and looks at me to listen.  “I’m wondering if being with Sam triggered my presentation.  Because you’re brothers.  Maybe it would’ve been worse without him, if we’d just met cold.”

“I’ll send him a fruit basket.”

“Send him a woman.”

“Hm, yeah he deserves a nice beta,” he says, laying back down beside me, tracing the lines of my face.  “He _deserves_ another omega.  But our lives don’t really support that kind of thing.”

“What kind of thing?”

“Constancy.  Domesticity.  Relationships.”

None of me moves and he’s noticed my tension, waiting to see if I’ll say anything. Maybe my breathing is a bit tight but I don’t know if I can hide how I feel.  What is he talking about?  “We-  You’re staying with me, right?”

“Yeah, I am,” he says solemnly, like he’s done something wrong.  “Well, you’ll stay with me I think.”

Slowly I breath easy again, a long inhale, let his scent fill my corners and soothe me.  “I only just got you.”

“Yeah, I know baby, me too.”  He kisses my eyes, cups my head, and holds me close.  I can feel his heart hammer in front of me.  “Let’s just spend a day, yeah?  Just an easy day of being together, and a night?  Work out your heat and hold each other.  And we won’t talk about the future or whatever.  None of that.  Just us.  Be nice, huh?”

“It would,” I say and hold him so I can look at his face.  

He doesn’t want to look in my eyes but he can’t help it, and I can read him, I think, feel every little drop of fear and scratch of guilt, even if I don’t know what they’re about.  “I don’t think you’re going to be able to lie to me.”

“I’m a selfish bastard, Y/N.”

“No you’re not. And there’s nothing you can’t have, with me.”  I kiss him and he pulls me so tight it hurts, his fingertips mashing my skin into my bone, arm crushing my ribs to his.

“Just a day, sweetheart.”  He shakes his head and sighs to wash away his mood.  

I change the topic to help him along.  “Well, we’ll need at least a day, I think.”

“For what?”

“There’s a lot we’ve yet to do,” I say suggestively and peck him on the lips, then I nudge his chin up with my nose, kiss his throat and lick the muscle.  He grunts encouragingly and shifts all over, dragging his full cock across my belly.  “I’m addicted to your scent, but I want to know what you smell like everywhere.”

“Oh no, no-no, me first.”  He puts me on my back, sitting up with an eagerness that’s boyish and bright.  “You’re gonna want me to knot you all over again,” he promises and crooks a smile that’s connected directly to my core, leaning over to kiss my chest.

“Dean?”

“Ya babe,” he looks up.

“I love you.  I’m going to love you every day.”

“Jesus Y/N… How…?” I put my hand on his cheek and he leans into it again, a beautiful smile on him growing from the inside out.  “I love you too.  Always.”

I nod, show him I believe him, and he grins slick again.  “ _All_ the ways,” he promises, and disappears down my body to start the nicest day of my life.


End file.
